


Did my heart love till now?

by Seisu



Category: Batman (Comics), Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Alpha Jonathan Samuel Kent, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Author has less than 8 hours of sleep and it's driving her insane, Bottom Damian Wayne, Childhood Sweethearts, Damian kinda dom here???, Except no pain just loveeee, Fluff and Smut, Help, Intersex, Justice Lords Universe, Kinda romeo and juliet vibe?, M/M, My heart hurts for them, Omega Damian Wayne, Secret Relationship, Self-Lubrication, Someone stop me, They're SMITTEN, They're so in loveeeeeeee, Valentine's Day, but only Superman, idk what im doing, like the author, the tags are a mess, what the fuck did i just write?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:41:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29462925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seisu/pseuds/Seisu
Summary: “I see the sunrise every day,” Jon retorted. “And I haven’t gotten tired of it.”Damian’s lips twitched, fondness welling inside of him. “I’m not the sun.”“You might as well be.”My sun, he did not say.
Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne, Jonathan Samuel Kent/Damian Wayne
Comments: 8
Kudos: 157





	Did my heart love till now?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chibi_Taan_89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibi_Taan_89/gifts).



> Happy Valentine's Day, friends!  
> This fic is set in an alternate universe in which Lois dies and cause Clark to be disillusioned with humanity and becomes Lord Superman.  
> There's no reason to make this ABO but I was like ¯\\_( ͡❛ ᴗ ͡❛)_/¯ so.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is purely a work of fiction and has absolutely no construct upon the hell we call reality. In other words, don't use this as a substitute for sex ed. lol

Valentine’s Day is a capitalist sham -as all other holidays are- meant to trick people with unrealistic expectations that are guaranteed to make them unhappy.

Damian felt his headache at the sight of a small pile of bright glittery pink cards and carefully wrapped chocolate boxes on his desk. Why do these children have so much free time?

Beside him, Wilkes whistled appreciatively. “I think you win the Most Valentine Gift Received award, Dames.”

“Tt. What a useless award,” Damian remarked. “You can take them if you like.”

His alpha friend gave him a _look_ as if Damian had said something socially unacceptable -which was not by Damian’s standards. “You _can’t_ just do that.”

“Why not.”

“It’s disrespectful, dummy.”

Respect. Hah.

“I very much doubt there is anyone in this academy that is worth my respect, Wilkes.”

“Well, it’s still not nice.”

Damian raised his eyebrow. _Since when am I nice?_

Wiles, owing to their three years of friendship, understood. “Fair. But still -just bring them home and look through them once, Dames.”

Damian huffed. “Fine, but you’re helping me organise these.”

The redhead conceded to that, dragging his chair towards Damian’s desk to arrange the cards into a neat little stack. “I think you got like forty cards, Dami. How do _you_ get this much?”

“People are shallow and materialistic.”

Wilkes shot him another look.

Damian shrugged carelessly, pulling out a paper bag -Grayson insisted that he took it this morning- to put the chocolates away. “The only person who knows me well enough in this school is you, so the reason for their flighty fancy should be anything but my personality, meaning my wealth and looks.”

“Oh, don’t say that -I’m sure there’s someone out there that actually likes a prickly cactus like you.” Wilkes grinned.

“I am not a ‘prickly cactus’.”

“You _totally_ are.”

“I will not fall to your level, Wilkes.”

“You don’t have to,” Wilkes’s grin grew. “You’re already shorter than me.”

“Haha. Funny, Wilkes.”

“I know- oh hey, look! This card looks kinda cool!”

Damian looked up from the chocolates -probably not poisoned but who knows- to the card Wilkes was waving around -entirely ink-black background and white shiny cursive fonts; The monotone colour alone set it apart from the rest of the cards. A white heart was drawn to frame the words. Not store-bought. Homemade.

_Happy Valentine’s Day, Dearest._

Damian almost froze at the endearment. The omega part of him, deep-rooted and feral and ancient, jumped at the familiar handwriting. “Let me see.”

__“__ Oh, okay. Here.” Wilkes placed the card in his hand.

Damian scanned the outside of the card first -not addressed to him in particular, no receiver’s name or _To Damian Wayne_ like the other cards. He flipped it open.

_See you later._

_Forever yours,_

_Jon-El._

Underneath were time and coordinate.

A small noise escaped Damian’s throat.

“What is it?”

Damian closed the card shut as Wilkes leant in to see the content. “I-”

“Who is it? Is it from someone you _like_?”

Damian’s cheeks heated up slightly. “No.”

“You’re blushing.”

“I am not... I know the sender. He is.. an acquaintance.”

“You call me an ‘acquaintance’, Dames.”

“You’re a colleague.”

“The word is friend, actually. Can’t you give me a hint? Which class? Do I know this person?”

Damian’s lips twitched. _He’s not from this school._ “No.”

Wilkes opened his mouth -no doubt to shoot some more rapid-fire questions that Damian had no answers for- but the teacher came in (thankfully), signalling the start of the third period.

The redhead whispered before dragging his seat back to his desk, “This isn’t over.”

Damian sighed in relief inwardly as the teacher started droning about simple arithmetic that an infant is capable of -at the very least, Wilkes thought the card was something innocent just like the rest of the cards; A childish sign of affection expected of people their age.

He would have to make plans to deal with that later.

For now...

Damian discretely brought the card under his nose. A faint but unmistakable scent -something spicy and musky that Damian wouldn’t mind drowning in- emitted from the item. Faint enough that another alpha like Wilkes did not detect. Damian had always been (unfortunately) sensitive to Jon’s scent.

_Ours._

Damian shook his head. No, he must stay level-headed. Putting the card away, he mulled over the short message Jon-El had given.

_See you later._

It made him a little frustrated sometimes how confident that boy was -that Damian would go to meet him. But he also knew that Jon would have gone to see him if he didn’t. He couldn’t let that happen.

Tt. It still annoyed him though.

Damian calculated the time he would need to prepare for their ~~date~~ meeting. It would not do to wear school uniform. There should be some proper clothes in his closest safehouse, Damian contemplated. A short mental calculation later, he realised that he had to ditch his classes.

...Well, it’s not like he’s learning anything.

* * *

Wilkes was not amused by the excuse Damian had given him -” A Robin case came up, Wilkes. What else should I do?”- but he did not pursue this matter, much to Damian’s reprieve. Cautiously, he slipped out of the school, avoiding the path with his father’s camera (or worse Gordon’s) as the school bell rung behind him.

He shot a message to Pennyworth, telling him not to pick him up -he had done this enough times that Father would thought he was on one of his sudden adventures. Damian would need to fabricate some alibi but that, he decided, was a problem for future Damian.

A short (30 minutes) stop at his safehouse consisting of a shower and changing into more appropriate clothes -white silk button-down and black trousers never go out of style. Disguise -cameras were everywhere, he could not be blamed for being paranoid. Weapons -he was not so much of a fool to go without some kryptonite batarangs. Lastly, he grabbed his extra Robin cape -a gift that Jon would be delighted to see (and smell).

Another half an hour later, he arrived at the meeting point: a 5-star hotel that Damian knew was also one of the League bases.

It seemed that Grandfather was still in cohorts with Lord Superman. It should be more worrying.

_Unimportant_ , the voice inside him whispered. Eager. For something it deemed more important.

Damian took the elevator straight to the top floor where the suite room had been exclusively reserved for the Al-Ghuls, taking off the fake skin he was wearing.

_Ding!_ The elevator opened.

“Dearest. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

To Damian’s displeasure, Jon had grown taller again, easily beating the short growth spurt Damian had a month ago. The boy was not dressed in his black and white Superboy costume but in the ripped jeans and red sweater that Lord Superman would have no doubt frowned upon; He looked underdressed -so out of place in the luxurious hotel suite- and yet Damian thought there was not a look that could fit him better if he tried. He smiled, as he always finds himself helplessly do in Jon’s presence. “...I told you not to call me that.”

Jon pulled him gently for a hug, not even bothering to check Damian’s body for weapons - _the fool_. Damian melted into Jon’s warm embrace, allowing himself to inhale Jon’s unique scent. Unfortunately, Damian was also a fool for Jon.

“You smell good, Dami,” Jon sighed as he buried his face into Damian’s hair.

“Don’t I always?” Damian drew back slightly to look at Jon’s lilac eyes.

“You always smell good, just as you always look good. Better than good. The best.” Jon laughed, a sound more joyous than anything Damian had ever heard in his life.

In Jon’s embrace, Damian could almost pretend that they both were normal -as if they were not on opposing sides, as if their fathers were not sworn enemies as if they were allowed to love each other freely.

“Mmn, and what’s the plan for today?”

“A kiss first, if I may?” Jon requested as if Damian would not have tried to give him everything if he asked. His uncalloused hands brushed against Damian’s scent gland feather-light as he brought them to cup the vigilante’s face.

Damian shuddered pleasantly.

“I would like that.”

Jon-El had always been gentle with him, from when he was five following the 8-year-old Demon Head’s heir like a lost little duckling and even now, kissing him maddeningly slow. Jon’s lips moved against his in a rhythm and Damian parted his lips slightly from habit, allowing Jon’s tongue inside to wreak havoc. Jon did not just wreck him -he toppled his resolve like a building block tower, made his head felt impossibly foggy.

Something inside him _purred._

_Weakness._

Damian could not bring himself to care.

They did not part even as Damian broke the kiss for much-needed air. Jon nuzzled Damian’s face affectionately.

“I miss you, Dearest.”

_And I you _.__ Damian did not say this out loud. Same as _I love you_ or other kinds of declaration. Jon had never minded -perhaps because he was certain of his position in Damian’s heart.

After all, he was the only one Damian had ever had true heats for.

Damian brought his arm around Jon’s neck, pressing his body almost teasingly against the taller boy’s. “I hope that you _do_ have other plans before rolling in the sheets, Jon-El.”

“I’m thinking of lunch first and then a movie -is that acceptable, Your Highness?”

“I suppose we’ll have to see what’s on the menu first before I can pass my judgement.”

Jon had dismissed all the servants -in the suite, there were only two of them. They seated themselves at the round table, soft classical music playing in the background. _Douze etudes._

“I don’t remember you appreciating classical this much.”

“I don’t,” Jon shrugged. “But you do. You used to play Beethoven so much.”

“You remember.”

“Of course -it’s about you.”

Something warm stirred inside Damian’s chest, content.

The menu was vegetarian -Jon had always taken everything about Damian in stride. No longer the heir to the League? Okay. Doesn’t kill? Okay. Doesn’t eat meat anymore? Okay.

All in all, the meal had exceeded expectation. They had kept the conversation light, skirting around family matters with practised ease.

They moved to the private movie theatre soon after. Damian was not much interested in the movie itself but he did feel the need to show some appreciation for Jon’s effort. He leant on the alpha, leeching warmth from the half-Kryptonian.

His omega side was quite dissatisfied with the arrangement.

_More _,__ they demanded. Understandable, given that Damian’s shallow monthly heats had been suppressed and the last time he had laid with Jon was 3 months ago.

A quarter into the movie and Damian was already in Jon’s laps, fingers absent-mindedly tracing patterns on Jon’s torso and arms, sometimes brushing against his glands ‘accidentally’. His eyes on the screen as if he was enjoying the movie instead of teasing Jon.

“Dearest-”

“Yes?” Damian tilted his head innocently.

Jon pouted. “Stop teasing me.”

“Mmn. Maybe you should do something about this then,” Damian fluttered his lashes as he shifted in Jon’s laps, one hand pressing down on Jon. “ _Be-lo-ved. _”__

Jon made a noise -throaty. Damian liked it.

A competitive light gleamed in Jon’s lilac eyes. Not wasting any more time, he stood up, arms supporting Damian in a bridal carry the older boy would have normally protested about. He strode over to the bedroom, just a hair away from flying them both.

“Impatient,” Damian hid a smile.

“Pot calling the kettle black,” Jon said as he deposited Damian on the bed.

“Wait,” Damian called out as Jon started to undress. “I want to do it.”

Jon blinked as Damian pulled him down onto the bed, just kneeling between Damian’s legs. Nimble fingers slid under his sweater, pulling it off in one smooth move.

“Genetics are truly unfair, don’t you think?” Damian asked as he surveyed the smooth expanse of Jon’s torso, fat and muscle distributed proportionally. It made for a truly attractive body, considering how little effort Jon poured into it.

“You look better than me,” Jon assured.

Damian chuckled, “What makes you think I’m jealous, Beloved?” He traced a big circle on Jon’s abdomen, “All of this -does it not belong to me?”

Jon shuddered, obviously pleased by Damian’s possessiveness.“Yes -yours _ _,_ only yours.”_

“Good.” Damian, rather hot and bothered by this point but still maintaining his cool, took his time unzipping Jon’s jeans. “And do you remember what you need to ask before touching anything?”

“Permiss-,” Jon choked halfway, hands jerking when Damian palmed at his clothed cock.

“Yes, permission. So tell me,” Damian lifted his eyes from the quickly hardening mast to Jon’s red face. “How many times have you thought of me since our last time?”

“A-a few times?” Jon averted his eyes. For some reasons, the boy was embarrassed about the oddest thing; Was it not typical for an alpha to masturbate to the thought of their partner every other day?

“Just a few times?” Damian asked nonchalantly as he peeled off the jeans. He poked at Jon’s half-hard cock, the only article of clothing left being Jon’s boxer.

“Mo- more than that?” Jon clasped his hands together in an effort to restrain himself. His scent had begun to fill the room, intoxicating and almost overpowering -Damian took a deep breath. “Dami, _please _-”__

__“__ Good things come to those who wait, don’t you think so?” Damian hooked his index finger under the elastic, pulling it agonisingly slow.

Jon gave him a pained look. “ _Dearest_.”

Damian stripped off the boxer. “Would you like to undress me?”

Jon nodded, puppy eyes and all too eager. If only his followers could see him at this moment…

“ _Good boy_.”

Jon pounced. The next thing Damian knew he was pushed into the mattress, his arms stretched above his head and pinned with only one of Jon’s hand (obviously, the alpha was cheating with his super strength) and straddled by the boy. Jon lapped at his throat, teeth scrapping his gland and fingers of his free hand fumbling on the buttons.

Damian turned his head sideways for better access, allowing Jon to suck hickeys (that he would have to cover up with makeups) onto his neck and exposed collarbone. A logical part of him was rather wary of Jon giving him a mating bite (although he knew Jon wouldn’t do that without his permission) but the noisier part -the omega- _preened_ at the attention the alpha was giving them. Damian’s toes curled at the wet and hot sensation. The wetness between his thigh told him that he’s starting to self-lubricate.

Eventually, Jon got the button-down shirt off him (with two buttons popping off in the process but then again Damian wasn’t expecting a miracle) and started to trail kisses down Damian’s scarred upper body. Damian watched his own chest rose and fell in tandem with Jon’s teasing, spots reddening in a pattern only Jon would have understood.

Then Jon latched onto his nipple.

Damian moaned loudly when the other boy lightly bit on his nipple, eyes screwed shut and aware that Jon must be watching his expression right then. Jon worked on his nipples for a while before pulling away to survey his handiwork. He released a hoarse hum of satisfaction. “Damian, you look _gorgeous_. Look.”

Damian opened his eyes -his face was warm enough that he could try to fry an egg- and gave his nipples a cursory look. It looked almost as hot as Damian was feeling -standing proud, red and puffy. His face burned hotter but he did not avert his eyes. His mouth moved as green met lilac, “You’re wasting _time_ , Beloved.”

Jon pressed a brief kiss to Damian’s lips, unpinning Damian’s wrists. He pulled away Damian’s trouser and boxer in one move before moving to position himself between Damian’s thighs.

A filthy _squelch_ resounded through the room when Jon plunged his finger into Damian’s well-lubricated vagina. “You’re wet for me, Damian.”

“ _Tt _.__ Astute observation, Jon. Now, fuck me.”

“Be nice, Dami.” Jon pumped himself for a short while -the foreplay and being a teenager had greatly helped in that regard- and lined himself at Damian’s entrance.

This was not their first time. Jon gripped Damian’s hips, careful of his strength, and _pushed._ Damian moaned at the sensation of being slowly filled, inch by inch. He could hear Jon groaning as he drilled himself further.

Their pheromones had filled the room and it would have been overwhelming had it been another alpha’s scent apart from Jon. After what almost felt like an eternity, Jon had buried himself fully -or at least at which point Damian felt full -he felt so _good,_ the way only Jon could make him feel.

As soon as he was sure his voice wouldn’t come out overwhelmed, Damian nodded. “You may move.”

“Demanding as ever,” Jon smiled fondly -a look that made Damian want to either punch him or kiss him- and pulled out halfway and rammed home. “You still like it a little rough, right?”

Whatever Damian had in mind to retort was lost as Jon’s hips slammed into him with a force that would have been too much with a normal human. Damian was sure that there were now bruises on his hips from how vice-like Jon’s grip on him.

Damian loved it.

His moans -Jon was great at this and he refused to feel ashamed of enjoying it- filled the space, occasionally accompanied by Jon’s shallow pants. He could tell that they were both close, just teetering at the edge.

Jon could tell too -he started peppering kisses all over Damian’s face and throat, one of his hand reaching up to tweak the omega’s nipples. The other played with Damian’s own smaller leaking cock. A light squeeze and-

A short noise -halfway between a cry and a moan- ripped itself out of his throat as he came. Jon buried his face in Damian’s neck, his muffled groan making vibration (that had no right to be so attractive) into Damian’s skin. A burst of warmth told him Jon had also come.

They stayed like that for a minute, letting Damian catch his breath. Damian closed his eyes, listening to Jon’s heartbeats.

Never had he loved hearing something so much.

Jon finally pulled out but he did not take Damian to the bathroom straight away as he was prone to do. Instead, he stared at Damian.

“What are you doing, Jon?”

Jon pouted. “Let me look at you a little bit longer, Dami.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen.”

“I see the sunrise every day,” Jon retorted. “And I haven’t gotten tired of it.”

Damian’s lips twitched, fondness welling inside of him. “I’m not the sun.”

“You might as well be.”

_My sun,_ he did not say.

Damian hummed.

“Dearest. Come back with me.”

Damian’s heart jumped to his throat at the request- one that he had heard before. He bit his lips, giving Jon the same reply he had given before, “You know that we can’t.”

Jon would not his family up and neither would Damian.

“I will treat you right -I’ll give you the _world._ ”

Damian knew he was not lying. “I don’t _want_ the world.”

“I love you.”

Damian sat up. He cupped Jon’s face -Jon who had loved him with the force of a thousand sun- and kissed him slowly, chastely. He broke the kiss. “I know.”

“You know you are being very cruel to both of us, right?”

_We want to be yours _,__ his omega side cried out quietly.

“Don’t pretend you don’t have a choice, Beloved. This is a choice we both make.”

“I wish we don’t have to.”

“Maybe in another world.”

_I can be yours and you can be mine._

**Author's Note:**

> I did not mean for this to turn out so... fluffy? I was aiming for angst but bruhhh (lmao) 
> 
> Damian at the start: he's just an acquaintance, it's just a meeting  
> Damian in the end: Beloved, I love you so much
> 
> Why is he such a tsundere in this? Aaaaaaaaah I love him so much
> 
> Anyway, hmu at https://twitter.com/seisu2_2


End file.
